STAR TREK: KHITOMER

[47]

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

August 15, 2402

Sabrina finally woke up at the fourth slap in the face.

"So finally you wake up, runt! I hope you had lots of fun these last few days, because from now on you are going to be really interrogated!"

"Who … are you?"

"None of your business!"

"Captain Sabrina Helena … Watson, Serial Number … SH-12016412."

"Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"Which one … are you?"

"What?"

"You are one of … the three. Not Jaro. He's … too old. I never heard … Sisko or … Shudak, but I know … you are one … one of them."

Sisko smiled. The little tramp would be fun to interrogate after all.

"What makes you say that?"

"Today is … the day. And there is … authority … in your voice. You are used … to giving orders."

Before Sisko could answer, Sabrina continued:

"And … you're not him."

Sisko was psyched for an instant. But only for a second or two.

"Hmm! Maybe you are not completely stupid after all. Of course, with Starfleet Captains, one can never be sure. While you reflect on my identity, allow me to explain what I did to you yesterday. I implanted you with a small interrogation device. It has the very interesting property of producing pain of any intensity to any part of your body, just by using the little remote I have in my hand. Too bad that stupid Kilar blinded you, I would have loved to show you the scar and the remote."

"I … believe … you. Is that a … Cardassian shocker?"

"You heard of it! How nice! Then I will not waste anymore of our time. Let's skip the demonstration. Level One is really not that efficient. Let's start with … say Level Four!"

And without any more warning, Sisko pressed the button.

***

Sabrina and QeH'duQ had eaten plenty, emptied a few bottles of bloodwine, made love for several hours and fallen asleep again, QeH'duQ's head on Sabrina's chest.

Finally they woke up, kissed again, went out and ran under the fine morning rain. Then they called Kish and ate a "light" breakfast.

After that, QeH'duQ turned to Sabrina:

"So, my sister, what are your questions?"

Before Sabrina could open her mouth, QeH'duQ sat down facing her, at maybe four inches of her. Sabrina was troubled in her concentration for an instant, then began:

"Are you aware of the abrupt changes that have taken place in the Federation in the last year?"

"You mean since the Bajoran Wormhole has started staying open all the time?"

"Yes."

"It seems your superiors have become mad. That is why I planned to capture and torture you: I thought you were nothing but some Federation spy preparing the invasion of our Empire, just like you did with the Ferengis."

"It made no sense to me then, and it makes none now. The Ferengis were our allies, they had used the fleet they had found to drive the Remans back to where they came from, and all of a sudden, Starfleet Command decided that they were too dangerous. And then that treacherous operation on Ferenginar …"

"It almost brought the Klingon Empire at war. Only the Romulan threat stopped us. And then you conquered Romulus …"

"Nothing makes sense, QeH'duQ. One would think that the Federation has been replaced by an evil twin from a parallel universe …"

"Or another timeline."

Sabrina looked at her lover, stunned.

"I too have had time to think about all of this, Sabrina. When you think about it, it makes sense. We both know that the Prophets are not limited to one time. The opening of the Wormhole may have initiated a different timeline, with a new Federation much different from what it was one year ago."

Sabrina pondered what she had just heard then answered:

"Of course. Yes, it's logical! A new timeline where the Pah-Wraiths control Bajor, with all the consequences we know, like the ascension to Starfleet Command of Admirals Sisko and Shudak, who then started preaching the Supremacy Doctrine!"

"And that led to their new bellicose, treacherous attitude towards their neighbors."

"And the bad reputation we Starfleet Captains now have to deal with."

"Not you anymore, my sister."

And QeH'duQ took Sabrina in her arms and planted a big wet one on her lips.

***

"Is she dead?" Tomalak asked Jaro squarely.

"I do not know."

"Have you even met her?"

"No."

"Don't you think it would be useful to meet her before you pass judgment on her?"

"I don't see why."

"She is accused of blasphemy against the Prophets, yet the Kai herself doesn't condemn her. Doesn't it seem a little strange to you?"

"Ministers Sisko and Shudak are handling her case."

"Not you? Maybe we have been talking to the wrong person then. Maybe we should have gone directly to them instead of talking to a subaltern."

That last conversation had left Jaro with a sour taste. Essentially he had just been told that he was nothing but a puppet, a weak pawn in Sisko's and Shudak's game. And he didn't like that.

***

Sisko had untied Sabrina. He felt even more powerful, seeing her lying on the floor, prostrated, naked and blind, shuddering at the thought of the next shock he had the power to inflict on her any second he felt like it, for as long as he felt …

"You obviously believe that you are some kind of hero. But remember, you are alone in here. Alone, naked, powerless, hungry, thirsty … Your only hope of survival rests with me. And unless you cooperate with me, you will keep being interrogated, day after day, until you confess your heresy. I can let that device activated all night, and there is nothing, short of ripping your chest open with your nails and tearing it off your thorax, that you can do to escape the excruciating pain which …"

"Aww, shut up!"

Sisko stopped and looked at her, stunned.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Turn it on … and leave the remote there … for the night. I won't touch it … if you just shut up."

Sisko looked at her. That scrawny little worm, that … human! And she dared to talk to him in such an insolent tone!

But he understood.

"So you want me to kill you, huh? Nice try, little girl. It won't be that easy. I am much more experienced in inflicting pain than you are to endure it."

"Wanna … bet?"

 

[Alisium]

Hey,

Great story! I like where you're going with it in regards to the federation.

Im sort of doing the same thing with my own project but, I basically eviscerate it about 30+ years after yours.

Again, good job!

 

[47]

Thank you! It's nice to get some feedback!

***

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

August 16, 2402

"Does it still hurt?"

Sabrina was not screaming anymore. She had sworn in her heart that she would stay silent, as far as enduring the pain was concerned. But still, this was even worse than the shocker in her thorax, which Sisko had used all night long on her.

"I suppose it does", Shudak said. "Normally they enter their victim's ear much younger, then they wrap themselves around the cortex and stay there, almost dormant. Unfortunately for you, this one is almost — almost — an adult, so I suppose the pain must be excruciating. But we have no time to waste, do we, Captain?"

The Ceti eel in Sabrina's brain was big, all right, and it was inflicting her a throbbing pain beyond all tolerance. But Sabrina had lived with pain most of her recent life, and it had become her constant companion now. She would not let anyone convince her of doing what she didn't want to do. Besides, now that Sisko and Shudak had both shown their true identities to her, her mission was almost accomplished. There was only one thing left to do. And telling Shudak what he wanted to know was not it.

***

QeH'duQ and Sabrina had kept talking about the emergence of the second timeline all the day. They also had gone around the whole house — more like a fortress actually — and there was no door the Mistress of the House did not open for her lover. They had of course walked naked. QeH'duQ had considered putting on clothes as a gesture to allow Sabrina to keep intact what was left of her modesty, but the little captain had not let her put a stitch of clothing on "her scrumptious body". So they had strutted around naked for everyone to see, thus showing the scars which told everyone they were Klingons at heart.

After a "light" supper (only five plates, most carried by two slaves, and so full that entire pieces of meat fell from it), the two girls had once again made love all night, the Klingon way this time.

In the morning, QeH'duQ and Sabrina had "repaired" each other.

"So my sister, you still have not told me why you chose to visit Qo'noS, rather than any other place, to talk about the Federation problems?"

Sabrina knew that now was the time to look her lover right in the eyes and tell her the truth, without any kind of embellishment.

"You remember the solution we have devised for our common problem?"

"Yes. But your ship seems equipped with quite an array of weapons. Do you wish my ships to accompany yours? They will!"

"Not exactly."

"Then tell me, my sister! Whatever you need, whatever you desire, if I can get it for you, it's yours. If I can't, I'll steal it!"

That was it. The moment of truth.

"I need a cloaking device."

***

For hours the eel had kept torturing Sabrina in the most horrible fashion. At the same time, Shudak had tried to get the name of her accomplices out of her. But she had kept silent. In a fit of rage, Shudak had started kicking her in the belly, the ribs, the back, even the head. To wake her up, he used the shocker, which made her inert, exhausted body jerk around uncontrollably on the floor. But his victim swallowed her sobs and remained silent.

So he broke her fingers, one by one. Then he pulled her teeth out, one by one. He hit her repeatedly, as nothing was making sense to him anymore. He was so close — so close! — to finally get his ultimate revenge on his mortal enemy, and that small child stopped him!

After once again kicking her between the legs several times, he had left her. Her legs and arms were broken now, so she couldn't even try to move anymore.

"Tomorrow I'll make you talk!" he had threatened before closing the door of the padded cell.

In a horrible way, Sabrina was reliving her vision. Sisko, Dukat, the Monk, the padded cell, the constant torture, her incapacity to utter a sound — except this time it was of her own free will — had all been part of the vision. Now she knew even more that it was the truth, that the First Ones hadn't lied to her.

She even knew who her enemies were.

***

The door opened. Sabrina was extenuated, but she woke up like a cat.

"Miss Watson?" a voice asked.

Sabrina wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not. But she would take the chance.

"Who … are you?" she said as clearly as she could, with her teeth gone and her lips so swollen by the numerous hits she had received in the face.

"What have they done to you? Let me call a doctor!"

"No!" she answered, mustering all the authority she had left. "Who are … you?"

The man looked at her. He had no idea why, but he answered:

"Jaro Essa, First Minister."

Sabrina sighed.

"At last. Listen, First … Minister. Your … colleagues are not … who they say they are."

Jaro looked at her again, stunned.

"Is this how you beg for your life?"

"I'm dead. Bajor lives … if you listen to me. Please!"

***

Jaro could not believe it.

That girl, naked, blinded, maimed, tortured, practically nailed to the floor by her broken limbs, with an instrument of torture in her thorax and some kind of giant worm inside her head, had rejected any help and, in a tone that left no room to discussion, had told him the most incredible story.

And it all made sense.

He knew it did because he had contacted the Kai, and she had shared with him the Prophecy of the Dagger. It was there, unfolding so neatly that there was no way to doubt it.

***

"It makes sense."

QeH'duQ had understood Sabrina's explanations. She had asked to think about it. Now they were eating with several guests. For the occasion, both she and Sabrina were wearing leather warrior pants and boots.

Yes, Sabrina needed a cloaking device for what she was about to attempt. But …

"What you need is the new Type-XIV cloaking device. Unfortunately, my ships are old and I do not think I have more recent than Type-X or -XI."

"It will have to do then", Sabrina answered.

"Not necessarily, my sister. But first …"

She stood up. Everyone else around the table shut up, even the drunk ones.

"My friends, I wish to introduce you to my sister Sabrina, from the House of Watson. Anyone who lacks respect to her answers to me!"

Sabrina was standing up too. QeH'duQ took her meqleH and faced her sister. She knew what was coming up. In front of her elders, QeH'duQ would now welcome her into her House. Then, to seal the ceremony, she would make a deep, long cut in her chest, so that she now would have a scar to show to her enemies before she killed them.

***

Sabrina had told Jaro to leave and not worry about her. Nobody could know that the First Minister now knew the truth, or Bajor would be engulfed in the apocalyptic destruction to come.

The Ceti eel started to move again as the dawn was coming. Sabrina woke up from her restless torpor and, unable to bite her lips, let a long, terrifying, bloodcurdling scream out of her throat.

She couldn't move anymore. Everything, arms, legs, even her neck was now paralyzed. Even the screech died on her lips. The pain was unbearable.

“I’m not going today, honey. I don’t know when. But we won’t grow old together. I shall die alone, and not from old age. I have no further information.”

Now Sabrina knew. Today was a good day to die.

When the guards entered the cell, they found her lying in her blood, the now mature eel having started feeding from her stomach and other organs, through the opening it had chewed in her belly …

 

[47]

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

August 18, 2402

When Sabrina's corpse had been found, the Triumvirate had had to decide what to do with it.

Jaro, still shaken from his conversation with her the day before, had suggested a quiet, decent burial in the gardens of the Faram Monastery, not far from the capital. But the other two had almost called him an idiot and a weakling.

"We must make an example of her, show to the Bajoran people, and especially to her accomplices, that we will not be challenged!"

They had kept discussing vehemently for a while, then Sisko had come with the "perfect" solution.

For the last twenty-four hours now, Sabrina's corpse had been hanging by its feet, still naked and without any attempt made to have it look any better after the horrible tortures inflicted upon its now dead owner, or repair the flesh and organs eaten by the eel. It was exposed in the central place of the capital, under heavy guard.

Sabrina had been made an example for the Bajoran people all right. Only not the kind of example Sisko had envisioned.

***

QeH'duQ had really cut long and deep, from one outer side of Sabrina's breast to the other. The blood had liberally gushed out of Sabrina's chest, drenching her in an instant. But the little human had simply let the blood flow, without even wincing. She had then taken the meqleH from her sister's hand. QeH'duQ had faced Sabrina, throwing her chest out. Sabrina had cut long and deeply too, from one outer side of her chest to the other, right under the nipples, just like QeH'duQ had done. The two sisters had then shared a long hug before letting Tulia take care of them.

Two days later, both scars were closed, but quite visible on each one's chest. Sabrina now felt the pride of having Klingon warriors actually looking at her with respect, and she had remained topless for those two days.

But the time had come to return to work.

"I will soon have the cloaking device you need, my sister", Qeh'duQ told Sabrina. "And not a lousy Type-XI … a Type-XIV, the most advanced we have. I hope your engineers are smart enough to install it!"

"My Chief Engineer is half-Klingon."

"No problem then!"

The two girls guffawed for a good five minutes.

***

"They killed her! They beat her, they tortured her, they took her eyes out, they raped her, they cut her, and then they killed her and had some worm eat her insides!"

Onara was listening to the bereaved Taleria, who was grieving and raging at the same time, trying to help her sort her feelings. But she knew that right now the only things she could do were listening to her and offering her a shoulder to cry. And crying was what Taleria was doing right now.

"I loved her so much, Eminence! All I wanted was to stand with her, wherever she would go, whatever she would do, and at night, lie with her and keep her warm! And now … Look at what they have done to her! The purest heart, the noblest soul, the …"

Once again her sobbing stopped her from talking. Onara came a little closer, and Taleria put her head in her hands, crying and crying and crying.

***

"So they did kill her."

"You call that killing? Killing would have been explainable. What they did to her is not. Have you seen the side of her face, her ear, like if it had exploded from the inside? What could have done that?"

"And her eyes — gone! And the scars all over. She's been beaten, burned, her bones broken … How long has she suffered under the beasts who did that to her?"

The Bajorans were not happy. That of course the Triumvirate was expecting. But what they could not expect, and what they did not know, was that Sabrina had had ample time to talk on her way to the capital and inside, and her teachings had sounded true in the hearts of so many of her interlocutors, for at last she had spoken with the conviction given to her by absolute certitude, and the commanding tone given to her by years of Starfleet training, including the Advanced Command Course Wilkins had made sure she received.

The Triumvirate had failed to take that into account, and now they had a very discontent people to answer to.

And where the hell was Jaro?

***

"Lieutenant Paris, I suppose I don't need to tell you what this is?"

"A Type-XIV Imperial Class cloaking device, the one that supposedly makes all cloak detectors obsolete, Ma'am."

"Not supposedly, Lieutenant", QeH'duQ answered. "There is no known technology which can detect a ship with this cloak — once it is properly installed of course …"

"Do you doubt my ability, human?"

QeH'duQ roared:

"DO NOT call me human, you mongrel! I am more Klingon than you are, even with those half-baked ridges!"

"My ridges may be half-baked, but my blood is Klingon!"

"I am not interested in your blood for now. When this is all over, I will shed it and we shall see in which color it flows out! For now I want to know if your feeble half-breed brain can assemble it!"

"If you were not too drunk when you stole it and actually brought me the genuine item, and if you didn't damage it carrying it in your garbage scow, it will take no more than an hour!"

"A pure blood Klingon engineer would need half that time!"

"Fifteen minutes then! Watch the clock, if you can read!"

***

Quark and Tomalak had returned, and had reported to Wilkins.

"Damn. I liked her. She could have been one of my top captains in ten years from now."

"She was the Captain of the Enterprise."

"Yeah. Damn, how is it that now that the Federation is finally strong enough again to stand on its own two feet, we seem to be losing our future? First Annie, now her … Those two were the spearhead of a new Starfleet, more efficient, better armed for the future, yet keeping the spirit alive …"

"They felt that saving our present justified sacrificing their lives, Admiral. They were Starfleet officers, true and blue", Tomalak answered.

"What a loss still. Who will replace that one?"

"I don't know. What I know is that Shudak, Sisko and Jaro have much to account for."

"Hmm … Yes … About Jaro …"

"What?"

"He is coming here. He wants to talk with you."

"Not interested."

"I think you are, Admiral."

***

"Shields at 88%, Captain!"

The four Rogh'Vars had found the Enterprise and opened fire without warning. Sabrina had instructed Miral to install the cloaking device "faster than my foot can find your ass", but it wasn't fast enough.

A new volley shook the ship.

"Shields at 56%, Captain. Their new torpedoes are quite efficient."

"Watson to Paris: Progress report, Lieutenant!"

"QeH'duQ here, Captain: the lieutenant is finishing the installation. I am almost convinced that she is really part Klingon. I may not need to bleed her after all."

"How long, QeH'duq?"

"Paris here, Captain! Done and ready — in fourteen minutes! Try to find a Klingon engineer who can do that!" she added, looking squarely at QeH'duQ.

"Well, engage it!"

"Done, Captain!"

"Very well! Helm, maximum warp to Bajor!"

 

[47]

CHAPTER SIXTY

August 20, 2402

First Minister Jaro Essa had tried to stop the populace by calming them down, appealing to their reputation as a peaceful people. Nothing had worked.

The Bajorans had revolted once they had realized that Sabrina was, not only dead, but so defiled in her death. Her teachings were now practically new articles of faith, but even if it had not been, the Triumvirate had demonstrated its inability to govern the open-minded Bajoran people.

Even the militia and the army were not taking orders from them anymore. First they had simply ignored the civil disobedience, then they had started participating in it. At that moment the Triumvirate had ended, Sisko and Shudak had run away, and Jaro had been left alone.

And now he was doing what he could to regain a semblance of pride.

He would follow the Emissary's instructions, and then some.

***

The Starship Enterprise was now operating under the protection of the Type-XIV Imperial Class cloaking device. QeH'duQ had not exaggerated indeed. As soon as it had been engaged, Sabrina had ordered an evasive maneuver, and from that instant, the four Rogh'Vars sent after the Enterprise had fired everywhere but on target.

But the mission was only beginning, and that had been by far the easiest part.

"Report, Miss Paris."

"The torpedo is ready, Captain. I should remind you again though that we will not be able to fire it."

"You told me that. But why?"

"We are talking about a highly unstable compound, Captain. Silithium is already quite unstable in its natural state, combining it with tricobalt makes it a very dangerously volatile substance. We are walking on thin ice as it is."

"And you couldn't combine it with something else?"

"Not to achieve the desired effect, Captain. Tricobalt is, surprisingly, the safest element to combine silithium with. But try to shake this or even carry it to a launcher and you get an explosion that will be seen from here to Romulus."

"So, how will we deliver it?"

"I am afraid we will have to carry it inside."

"That's what I thought."

***

Jaro had entered the room, followed by two men carrying an oblong box.

"Scanned and verified, Sir", Vasik said. "It contains Bajoran organic residues."

Wilkins closed his eyes for a moment. He knew too well what that meant.

"Yes, Admiral", Jaro confirmed. "Those are the remains of Captain Watson. She asked to be brought back to you after her death. She also told me to ask you if she disappointed you, because it seems she promised she would not."

Wilkins sighed silently — almost. Yes he remembered the first time he had met Sabrina standing up and not wincing in pain, the day he had decided to bring her in the Command branch and give her the appropriate training.

"You have a message from her?"

"Yes, Admiral."

"I'm listening."

***

"Captain, we are entering the Bajoran sector."

So the moment was getting close. Sabrina thought once again about her plan, trying to find another solution. But no, her conversation with Miral had convinced her that there could be no other way.

"Very well. Bring us to the wormhole, Warp 5."

***

The horribly tortured body of Sabrina Helena Watson had been identified — mostly through her DNA, and brought to the morgue.

"I'm listening, Jaro. Make yourself convincing or I won't be able to help you."

"I ask for nothing. I will be judged by my peers, unless you choose to judge me here. The Captain insisted that no effort be made to save her. She said that the vision clearly stated that she had to die in this way, alone, among her enemies, and in the most excruciating way. You believe me or you don't, that is not important. What is important is the identity of my two co-governors."

"Sisko and Shudak, right?"

"No. Captain Sisko never came out of the Celestial Temple."

"I've seen him."

"What you have seen is the Pah-Wraith who assumed his shape after killing him. The Captain showed his broken crystalline cocoon to the Kai, in the Fire Caves. It was Gul Dukat's."

"Dukat?"

"Yes. As for the other, Shudak, the only thing she was sure of was that he was not a Bajoran either. She said he was 'a very old soul, full of rancor and rage, fused with an ancient fear, a terrible monster ready to devour all life'. And still, the first that will be destroyed is neither of them, but rather Kosst Amojan. That's what the prophecy explains."

"The prophecy?"

“Kosst Amojan, the Murderer, the Renegade,
Killed the Progeny, Closed the Curtain.
Heavens are Dark, Birds Sing No More,
The Curse Bares the Land.

The Light Bearer, the Alien, the Child,
Back from Afar, Takes the Dagger,
Tears the Curtain, Ignites Heavens,
Brings the Curse to Its End.”

"Yes, I've heard it, but …"

"Three times the Dagger will strike. First the Light Bearer will kill Kosst Amojan. Then the Alien will kill the Murderer. Finally the Child will kill the Renegade. They will all give their lives to accomplish their share of the prophecy. Then the Curse will end."

"What curse?"

"A curse that would otherwise destroy, not only Bajor, but the whole universe, Admiral."

"Who is the Light Bearer?"

"Captain Watson is the Light Bearer."

"But she's dead!"

"Yes, Admiral. And yet she will fulfill her part of the prophecy."

***

Aboard the Enterprise, only two were left after the complete evacuation of the ship.

"So there we are, my sister."

"Yes. Ready to strike in the belly of the beast, Sabrina. Just like a qa'targ, we must plunge the dagger right inside its vital organs."

"The dagger will not come out though. You told me once that you might die young, yet you would die with honor. I guess we will do that together."

"As we should. Today is a good day to die."

"Very well. The crew has been evacuated. We can manage bringing the Enterprise inside the Wormhole. Once in there we'll detonate the torpedo."

"Yes, my sister. You at the helm, me in Engineering. It is now time to say goodbye to each other. I will always love you, Sabrina."

Sabrina hugged her friend.

"And I will always love you, QeH'duQ."

***

"This story is quite hard to believe, Jaro. And yet, I think you are telling the truth. Still … You have committed many crimes in your government. But since Bajor is not part of the Federation, and I believe your explanation that Captain Watson wanted to die, I'll leave your punishment to your people."

"The Kai will want to talk with you about reintegrating the Federation. She is the provisional First Minister. She will also want to talk with Admiral Kira."

"The Kai can talk with …"

"Sir, a message from Deep Space Nine! The wormhole … it just exploded! There's nothing left!"

 

[47]

PROLOGUE TO SEASON SIX

Two years have passed.

In the wake of Sabrina's horrible death and the collapse of the Wormhole, the Bajorans had tried to return to their spirituality of yore. But it hadn't been easy, for the Prophecy of the Dagger meant a radical change, which was just becoming to appear as both a blessing and a curse.

Now they were mostly at peace with themselves and their neighbors. Gone was Benjamin Sisko, gone was Shudak Ran, gone was Jaro Essa — the last one simply exiled from Bajor, as he had at least faced his crimes and had been identified as the Instrument in the Hands of the Holy One — the Light Bearer. Also gone was Kosst Amojan, killed in the Celestial Temple, along with the other Pah-Wraiths in the Fire Caves, which had simply collapsed at the exact moment the Wormhole had.

Where were the Prophets? Were they locked inside the Wormhole? Had they left it before the disaster? Would they ever come back? The Prophecy said no. But it was hard to admit, and in fact the subject of most acrimonious discussions all around the planet.

Kai Onara had assumed for a while the government of Bajor. She had done her best to reassure the people, tell them that their creators would never forsake them, but that maybe it was time to admit that the truth would become clearer with time. She had also identified Taleria as the Alien of the Prophecy, adding her testimony to Sabrina's. Taleria had donned the shoulder-less hemp Robe of the Daughters of Murena, and studied the Sacred Writings. Applying her uncanny intelligence, her intense desire to continue Sabrina's work and the things she had explained to her before leaving to go to her horrible death, she was now an authority in all things concerning the Prophecy of the Dagger, which surprisingly had a lot more to say on Bajoran spirituality than anyone had thought until then. Then, for months at a time, she would roam, barefoot, the fields, roads and provinces around, sharing what she had learned, not with the scholars, but with the people, just the way Sabrina had.

Finally, Onara had found her permanent replacement as First Minister. The battle had been epic. Wilkins had compared it to the Battle of Cestus IV. But at the end, Kira Nerys had agreed to assume power. The two women were exactly what Bajor needed, and it had helped tremendously the talks about Bajor reintegration into the Federation, which had just been made official this very day.

***

After three and a half years of self-imposed inactivity, Lieutenant Commander Yirina Sorel had finally reappeared out of her quarters. Dalton could not have been more pleased. The story she had told her about her last hour aboard the Deletham was totally incredible. But he trusted the little woman and had made sure that she would have the time she needed to test her strange visions …

***

The new Starfleet had sent a few spy ships in the Gamma and Delta Quadrants. They had brought back a medley of moderately good and extremely frightening news …

 

[adm_gold]

Finally I got time to reregister and can tell you again how much I like this story. Keep it going!

 

[47]

Thank you. Season Six will explain a few things that happened in Season One, plus will start to reveal what has happened in the Gamma and Delta Quadrants. A long-lost sworn enemy of the Federation (another one? yeah!) may just reappear this season ...

 

[adm_gold]

Something else to look forward to. At least you're not on strike!

 

[47]

No. I'm just a fan.

 

[47]

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

August 22, 2404

She woke up, once again sitting, barefoot and topless, all tied up in that damn chair, in that damn cold and damp cell. Once again she would be interrogated. Once again … she didn't even remember how she had gotten there. She just knew that the painsticks would once again be applied all over her, until she loses consciousness again — oh that's right, first they would inject her with Codasol, so she couldn't faint …

"O'Brien, Molly, Lieutenant, Serial Number MSO-18931217."

Again, the fist in the teeth and the stick in the ribs. Screaming.

"Again I ask. What is the difference between the Mark XXII warp drive and the others that makes it go so close to transwarp? How did you develop it?"

She wouldn't tell them. Besides she didn't remember that either. All she knew was that the Mark XXII had carried the Warrior at Warp 9.999975, which was almost ten times faster than the Mark XXI. The Warrior had gone to Ocampa and returned in a matter of one month and a half, bringing back fascinating but damn bad news from the Delta Quadrant, news recently confirmed by the Tlhab.

Again the kind of riding crop the giant had in his other hand started tearing her shoulders and breasts. Again he asked the same question, over and over. Again she answered with her name, rank and number. Again he beat her, with the painstick or his anvil-like fists.

"Rise and shine, Ensign. Your thirty days have been served."

Molly woke up and jerked. She looked at the security officer, ready to jump. But she was a most formidable woman in her forties, who obviously did not fear a fight.

"Report for duty. You may want to wash up and comb your hair first."

***

"What happened, Molly?"

"As usual, Neema. I was minding my own business, somebody looked at me the wrong way, and I beat the crap out of him. Only that moron reported me."

"Were you surprised?"

"Pfft! That guy has no balls. He looks at me the way he did, he should be ready to accept the consequences."

"And how did he look at you, Molly?"

Molly threw an angry look at Neema.

"You know! Like he wanted to defile me with his foul stench!"

"I see. How are your dreams?"

"Always the same. I'm being tortured, always by the same guy, only now he asks me about the Mark-XXII."

"And before that it was about the sensor matrix?"

"And before that it was the new armor, yes."

"Any idea why the dream shifts from one item to another?"

"No."

"Hmm."

***

"Lieutenant Paris!"

Miral turned around and saw the impressive shape of her stepfather.

"Admiral, Sir!" she saluted Wilkins.

"You look better with those two full pips, Miral. And you earned them the hard way, just like your promotion as Chief Engineer of the Warrior."

"About that, Sir, may I speak candidly?"

Wilkins smiled. Then again B'Elanna had warned him. She would ask.

"No, Miral. You have been the object of no favor. You have earned your commission of Full Lieutenant, and you have also earned your appointment as Chief Engineer of the Warrior. I almost had a fight with Commander DeSoto when I told her that you would leave her team."

Miral smiled, imagining the diminutive girl using her martial moves on the towering middle-aged man.

"This has nothing to do with you being B'Elanna's daughter, Miral. She said nothing about it. She respects your desire to climb up by yourself. I asked the senior engineers, and the name which came up more than all the others put together was yours."

Miral smiled again. She was happy to have been told that, and since M'Lara's, Wilkins' and B'Elanna's daughter, birth, she had been more part of the family than ever before, and she was beginning to like the guy.

"Lieutenant O'Brien knows the Warrior much better than I do."

"Ensign O'Brien has had a lot of disciplinary problems in the last — well, since her return from her abduction. Starfleet has been very patient with her, especially considering her heroic conduct at Tagrak Vor, but there comes a time when enough is enough."

"I requested her as my propulsion specialist."

"You're sure?"

"Captain Racicot knew what to do about that, and I certainly can manage as well as she did."

"Yes, I've heard about that, and about a certain shower scene …"

"She told you? Oh mother! Well, I liked the captain, and yes we had fun together, but never like that."

"Not my business, Miral. Not even hers. I trust your judgment. But if Molly fails this time, I'm afraid that no friend will be able to save her from a dishonorable discharge."

"Understood, Sir."

***

There she was, walking alone.

Taleria Cretak had been raised to be an engineer in the military. It was intensive teamwork, which she had always felt very comfortable with. She had easily made friends with other Romulans, Vulcans, Humans, and countless other species, even Klingons, like Miral.

And then of course there had been her friendship with Annie and her love affair with Sabrina. But Annie and Sabrina were dead, and Sabrina had rested on her shoulders the continuation of her work. She had their last conversation forever seared in her heart:

"Taleria, you know what is going to happen, right?"

"Yes, Sabrina."

"I know you will cry, so I am not asking you not to. But when my work is over, yours will begin. If you abstain, all my suffering will have been in vain. Will you fulfill your share of the work?"

"I promise."

"You are the Alien, Taleria. Just as I will deal with Kosst Amojan, you must deal with the Murderer. That means you must find and kill Gul Dukat."

"And, just like you, give my life for it. I will find him by attracting him into a trap. I should not wonder about how I will do that. The First Ones will guide me."

"You must also find the Child."

"I know."

And so Taleria was making sure Sabrina's work would be accomplished. She was learning and teaching, learning and teaching, spreading the light all around Bajor. Most of the time the people listened, but once in a while some scholars opposed her, sometimes violently. She just took it all in stride, kept traveling and talking, eating what she could find or was given, slept in a bed once in a while, and generally was confounded by the absence of that hospitality that had made the Bajorans so loved.

But that too was a part of the Dagger Prophecy. The Alien would be treated as such by the wealthy, as a sister by the poor. Her quest would not be an easy one.

"Oh well, it's that or confronting Mother about my chosen lifestyle and sexual preferences. I guess I am better this way …"

With a smile on her face, the Alien started walking again, after drinking from a brook the water which most probably would be the only sustenance she would absorb today and tomorrow. Then she saw those guys coming to her …

 

[47]

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

August 22, 2404

After so many years of battling, retreating, regrouping and hiding, Starfleet was strong again.

But it was also quite different.

For one thing, most of its ships had not been built by the Federation. They were former Dominion dreadnoughts refitted by the former members of Unimatrix Zero, who had searched for and found ships that the Collective could not control, and the thousands of models they had built after studying the original design, and of course adapting it to Borg technology as much as they could without opening the door to the Queen for re-assimilating them.

Unfortunately the Collective had survived Janeway's last attack. It had not been easy and for a long time, chaos had prevailed. From 2378 to 2389, the Collective had become a loose cluster of factions trying to exploit their respective strengths, but so aimless that essentially they stayed together and did nothing. Those were good times for the Delta Quadrant.

But things started to change for the worse again in 2390. A few months prior to the Palomar assault, one of the factions started acting in a much more organized, although quite different, way. It didn't take it long to be joined by other ships, then entire other factions in search of guidance. Soon more than two thirds of what was left of the Borg after the Janeway Maneuver had joined that new leadership, where Order prevailed over Chaos.

As for the Queen — the new Queen, for the old one had died the day Voyager had reached the Alpha Quadrant — she had fought for all those years to preserve the Collective and had essentially failed, with slightly less than one quarter having remained with her. The rest had run away in every direction. It was rumored that some had joined the rebels from Unimatrix Zero. Others may have consorted with another Borg entity, but the Queen lacked resources to start looking for it. So she had let them go, as she had other worries, like that new faction which seemed to be getting ready for war. With whom? Unfortunately the Collective would probably be first on the list. So she had to take measures to protect what was left of it.

The most logical step was to retreat in a particularly inhospitable place and rebuild her fleet there. The Nekrit Expanse was the perfect choice. There she would rebuild the Collective and make it the force it had ever been, and they would re-assimilate or crush the rebels!

Of course the rebels did not intend to comply. The rumor was that they had selected a new leader, who had chosen the title of King. He was essentially assuming responsibilities similar to the Queen, but his philosophy was much different. His primary directive would not be to add the biological and technological distinctiveness of other species to that of the Borg. It would be much simpler than that: Conquer, destroy and rebuild — on the new Borg model, of course.

But where to begin? There were two major entities, spanning hundreds of planets and systems: The Dominion and the Federation. Those were the two major powers left, and they were at war with each other! The King let them proceed for a few months, until they seemed to stop, accepting the apparent stalemate they had reached in the Beta Quadrant.

There was no way he would accept that. So he launched a first attack in the distant Palomar Sector, an extension of Federation space. It was an easy victory.

While his armies were destroying and rebuilding, the King had time to consider his next step. To that effect, he sent several isolated Cubes in Federation space. They encountered almost no resistance until two years later, when the fleet of 150 Cubes he had sent to strike the first blow to the Federation was defeated at Vega 656 by a fleet of 39 ships.

So the Federation had warships now? No problem. The King would send 600 ships to hold the conquered space and develop new technologies to defeat them. That's about then that the King's fleet came to be known as the Blue Borg, because of the bluish undertone that was added to the usually quite green color of their energy fields. Obviously some new, different technology had been added to the core of their systems. Unless, as was theorized at that time, the King simply wanted to look different from the original …

In the meantime there was always the Dominion …

***

Now as far as Starfleet was concerned, things had evolved in a different fashion, and instead of segregating into factions, they had assembled new partners.

First, Robert Dalton had contacted the exiled Cooperative, which had flown away from the Nekrit Expanse when the new Queen had decided to select it as her new headquarters. With their help, he had contacted the former members of Unimatrix Zero, now strong of several hundred thousand ships, who simply wanted to be left alone by the "Green Borg", as the Queen's forces were now nicknamed. Of course, the threat of the Blue Borg, the Fellowship, as they had introduced themselves to the planets they had conquered, had kept them quite wary of the future. But they had decided to embrace the cause of the Federation because, after all, they wouldn't have existed without Janeway's help, and there was no safe place anywhere anyway, so they might as well fight alongside the only ones who would make trustworthy allies.

And then, there had been the Remans. They had captured the Chameleon, imprisoned the young females, naked, in the oven that was Tagrak Vor, and tortured to death first Varel, then Annie. But Annie had used her artificial skeleton to fool them into believing that she was a spy from the Borg. Having earned their trust, she had convinced them, using a lot of reverse psychology — thanks to what she had learned in her Advanced Command Class — that siding against the Federation was not the best idea. But that time, during which she could have convinced them to tell the Federation to come and rescue the prisoners, and which she had used to gain a new, powerful ally instead, had cost her her life.

But the Remans were there, standing guard with the Klingons all around the Beta Quadrant. Everybody feared sparks, but the two warrior races had acknowledged a common respect for honor, and, although the cohabitation was not easy, it was orderly.

Those ships were the only ones where crews had not been adapted to the Federation Model. On the thousands of ships patrolling the Alpha Quadrant, all ex-Borg Dreadnoughts, some Federation, Klingons, Romulans and Remans had been incorporated, but the vast majority were still ex-Borgs. Still, it was interesting to share the minutiae of those ships' technology, and the Starfleet protocols were, slowly but surely, integrated into the fleet's operations.

And then there was the Warrior Class.

The USS Badass had received the official name of USS Warrior, first of the new Warrior Class, so named to symbolize the union between the former enemies: Federation, Klingons and Romulans. The Warrior was the new flagship of the new Starfleet, a Starfleet built primarily to defend Federation space. Long gone was any thought of exploration or diplomacy.

All ships had benefited from the combined strengths of all the allies, including especially the Qalan weapons. But the Warriors had been designed from the nth scratch to be adaptable to the new Mark XXII Warp Drive imagined by Molly O'Brien and her team. That drive was practically transwarp, for all intents and purposes. So the Warriors were much by far the fastest ships in the fleet. The Dreadnoughts were more powerful though. The Klingon and Reman ships came third both in terms of power and speed.

There were now fourteen Warriors in the fleet, patrolling between the Alpha and the Beta Quadrant, and assuring a physical liaison between the two fleets. Those ships were staffed with a medley of Federation, Klingon, Romulan, ex-Borg and Reman people. They, more than the rest, symbolized the former objectives of a fleet now becoming a battle fleet more than anything else …

A Starfleet of which the Enterprise was not the flagship anymore …

***

The Ra’kholh and the Tlhab were the second and third members of the Warrior Class. The Ra’kholh had been sent to the Gamma Quadrant, the Tlhab to the Delta Quadrant. Their mission was the same: intelligence. Only it had been made very clear to both captains that under no circumstance they should engage the enemy. Starfleet Command wanted an update on what had been learned from rumors collected here and there, and the incredible news brought back by the Chameleon three and a half years earlier.

The Tlhab had come back first after searching for a while, then asking questions to some of the people most inclined to having a conversation with a Starfleet officer. They had of course started with Neelix.

The now seasoned Federation Ambassador to the Delta Quadrant had received Captain Morrow with enthusiasm, and had prepared for him his famous Jibelian berry salad, which the Captain had liked very much. Then they had talked. Using Neelix's information and the data collected by the Chameleon, he had been able to confirm the bad news, the very, very bad news …

It hadn't been that easy for the Ra’kholh, because the Federation didn't have friends in the Gamma Quadrant. Captain T'Shanik had fortunately proceeded in a most logical way, circumventing the former Dominion space from a hundred light-years first, and progressively reducing the radius of her search until she met a battlefield containing the remains of six Jem'Hadar attack ships. There were no residual energy signatures left.

As she kept moving, she found hundreds of such debris. The deeper she explored Dominion space, the more she found, and the more accurate the readings were. She sent all kinds of beacons, pushed her sensors beyond their theoretical limit, explored deeper and deeper and found … nothing. Only debris of Jem'Hadar ships and Dreadnoughts. And the analysis of the weapon signatures left no doubt.

So she moved out and returned at maximum warp to Khitomer, getting there two weeks after the Tlhab. Her report made sensation.

***

Taleria woke up and saw the rat looking at her bare feet. She jerked and slowly got up and out of the ditch.

She still felt the kicks in her ribs and back. She couldn't open her left eye. That guy's fist had really hit it right on. But it was the load she had agreed to carry. Right now, a young girl was running towards her. Maybe she would give her a hand …

 

[47]

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

August 24, 2404

"At ease, everyone!"

Yirina had entered the room, and all her colleagues had stood up, almost at attention. They were so surprised to see her back, but they felt the meeting had to be important.

"First of all, congratulations for the Warrior Class", she began. "I would have added my thoughts but I was busy designing something else. That something else, I want to explain to you today. Remember the Deletham?"

That was of course a rhetorical question. Who could forget the reports of the Khitomer Battle? But Yirina had prepared a presentation to remind everyone what that ship was really capable of.

***

The Khitomer System was now in front of the attacking fleet: 85 Dreadnoughts, 14 Scimitars and about 300 attack ships. It was protected by maybe fifty ships of all origins and ages, much less powerful than the monsters facing them.

As soon as it had arrived, the fleet had opened fire on the system. One of the Warbirds protecting it had been heavily damaged already. While the fleet was still firing, the remaining Warbirds had been trying to move forward to the attacker, while transmitting distress calls … To no avail: communications had been jammed. Without any way of consulting, the ships had tried to regroup in front of the main planet while opening fire. But their disruptors did not have the power to fire kilometers away like the fleet did, not with any kind of efficiency or precision anyway. Soon all ships had been blown to smithereens.

The attacking fleet had kept firing on the inhabited planets of the system. It had taken them only a few minutes to dismantle the whole of the military installations. The Klingons, however, had had time to aim at the fleet with a prototype of plasma cannon. It had fired once, blowing the two most advanced Dreadnoughts in the process.

The remaining eighty-three ships and their Reman counterparts had concentrated their fire on the cannon, destroying it instantly. Then, like rabid pit-bulls, they had started firing on everything, including the civilian quarters all around on the planet.

And then it had happened.

As the skies were slowly going back to their usual darkness after the battle, a blue vortex had opened over the Dominion-Reman fleet. To the Vorta in charge of the attack, it looked like the Bajoran wormhole. Only it wasn't.

The USS Deletham had stormed out and opened fire on the attacking fleet. Before anyone had had time to react, already five Dreadnoughts were burning in space, lifeless hulks of metal.

The captain of the Klingon Vor'Kha had looked at his screen dumbfounded. The best description anyone could have thought of was a small firebird sending lightning bolts all around. It wasn't big, yet it was lighting even the void of space and its weapons seemed to encompass all heavens at the same time.

The firebird had launched something — nobody had had the time to see what — over the last defending ships, right into the Dominion-Reman fleet, and incinerated twenty-eight Dreadnoughts at once. Screaming right inside the deflagration, right in the middle of the Jem'Hadars, it had started sending some kind of blinding white electrical discharges, disabling them one after another, torpedoing one after another.

The Deletham had kept sending bolts, sending torpedoes, firing from all sides at a time. It was frightening. The other ships had withdrawn, petrified, literally stunned by the spectacle. Explosion upon explosion, debris upon debris had been repelled by the ships' shields. Around the scene, already some enemy ships had begun to emerge, some in pieces, some left with only a quarter or less of their structure, all disabled, adrift, dead. The skies were a blaze of fire, metal and death, and only debris sometimes emerged from it, while the Deletham kept spreading wanton destruction to the Dominion …

***

The presentation was over. All eyes turned to Yirina.

"Our original mission was to find out what made the Deletham tick, to quote Admiral Wilkins. Well, today I will tell you. Then we will start designing her successor."

***

The girl had stopped at about ten steps from Taleria. She was thirteen, just a bit taller, but as thin. She wore a shabby tunic, and apparently nothing else, which stopped at about one third of her flimsy legs. She held a flask, which she was now handing Taleria.

"It's goat milk, Emissary", she said mildly.

Taleria looked at the young girl, smiled and accepted the gift. She drank three large gulps of it and felt all invigorated. She was getting ready to empty the flask when she noticed the girl's attitude. Her lips were dry, and she was looking at her with some sadness in her eyes. Then she noticed that she had to be extremely poor, for her only piece of attire was almost threadbare. Her legs were so thin, so were her arms, and her cheeks had none of the fat a girl usually has at that young age.

"I'm through", she said, giving her the flask back.

The girl took it without a word.

"I am Taleria."

"I know, Emissary. I am Gel."

"Thank you, Gel. I have had only water for the last two days, this was … a feast for me."

Gel smiled.

"Truly the Emissary does not know the riches hidden among the beauty of Bajor, or she would never spend a single day without any food."

The two were now walking towards a small run-down cabin in the woods. The ground was damp and their feet sunk into the mud.

"In this area the Emissary could find food for a day. The ground is very generous for those who know where to look. I would gladly show the Emissary if she wanted me to."

Taleria put her hand on Gel's shoulder.

"Do not treat me as if I was some kind of royalty, Gel. The Prophecy says that the Alien would be treated as a sister by the poor. That makes me your sister. My name is Taleria."

"But you are the Second Emissary, the one who …"

She stopped.

"The one who … what?" Taleria asked.

"The one who kills the Murderer and dies doing so."

Taleria was surprised.

"And how do you know the Prophecies so well? Who taught you?"

"My grandmother, Emissary."

"And where is that wise woman?"

"She died a year and a half ago, Emissary."

"Call me Taleria. And you have been living alone all this time?"

"Yes, Emissary. I can take care of myself. I could take care of you if you wish."

They had now arrived inside the cabin. Gel had shown Taleria the only chair in the place and was bringing water in a bowl. She knelt down and started washing her feet.

"I can wash my feet myself, Gel."

"You are a guest in my home and your feet are muddy, Emissary. My grandmother would have been ashamed if you had told her that."

"My name is Taleria. I did not wish to offend you, Gel."

"There is no offense, Emissary. I know that you have never experienced the true Bajoran hospitality. There was a time when you would never have traveled alone. Villagers would have walked with you to keep you company and protect you. But that Bajor seems to have died long ago."

"You speak as if you knew it."

"My grandmother was a wonderful historian, Emissary. She knew everything and everyone. Yet she chose to withdraw here after the death of my parents, six years ago, during the Epidemic."

"That is when the Bajorans started losing their ways."

"Yes, Emissary. Many also started doubting the prophecies. But mostly, Bajorans started distrusting all the aliens. The Light Bearer was greeted as a Bajoran, but you …"

"Of course. The prophecy is very clear about that."

"It does not say that the Alien walks alone."

Taleria looked at the woman-child, who was serving her bread and bays.

"You really know the prophecy. Would you like to study with the Vedeks?"

"I would rather study with you, Emissary."

"I have to walk for a long time before I return to B'Hala."

"Let me walk with you, Emissary. I will find food for you, I will keep you warm at night, I will take good care of you. And when you choose to teach, I will listen."

Taleria looked at Gel. She was starting to love the girl.

"What is your full name, Gel?"

"Bareil, Emissary. Bareil Gel."

 

[47]

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Three years earlier …

"We'll have to intubate this one."

"Get the clothes off."

A nurse promptly undressed the dying patient.

"Clothes off. Prep her for a central line."

"Let's get some blood drawn. Type and crossing, six units."

"Pressure's dropping."

"Central line's in, getting pressure back. Normal saline."

"Open her."

***

"Okay, we have to shock her."

"Stand clear."

The defibrillator made the inert body jerk up by several centimeters. But the line remained flat.

"Let's shock her again."

"Clear."

"Flat line. Let's go, intracardiac tetra-epinephrine."

"All right, it's in."

"No pulse."

"Let's go ahead and shock a flat line and then quit."

"Okay, everybody stand clear."

"Clear."

Again the defibrillator made the corpse jerk up. No result.

"All right, that's all we can do. Let's call it."

"What's the time?"

***

November 21, 2402

"She's on."

"Let's see how she reacts. Hey, what's that?"

"We saved the right arm."

"What? We agreed on total body prosthesis. Now lose the arm."

"Sir?"

***

April 3, 2403

"Can she understand?"

"Since we turned her on. About five months."

"Are we ready to lose the legs?"

"Is it really necessary, Sir?"

"Yes. Except for the brain, everything must be replaced."

"Sir … You're aware she feels everything we do to her, right?"

"And you, are you aware that the drug cocktail we feed her cannot be altered for any reason?"

"She must be horribly suffering."

"She signed a release when she joined. And she's dead. We can do pretty much what we want. Lose the legs."

"Shut her down. Prep her for surgery."

"No! Let her on. I'll be testing her pain receivers."

***

November 28, 2404

The winter had come early on Bajor. Taleria and Gel had walked a full month in the rain, but the hospitality was not any better than in summer, and often the two girls had had to sleep outside, hugging each other for body heat. Fortunately, the snow had made itself very scarce.

Except today. The snowstorm was raging, they advanced with difficulty in almost fifty centimeters of snow now. It had one advantage: their bare feet were protected from the cold. But the rest was not.

It was not important anymore. They had entered the guarded corridor and walked the distance, still very cold, but knowing they would soon enter the climatic dome which would at last bring them solace.

Their destination was in front of them now, and Gel had already forgotten the cold, her hunger, everything. For it was there, in front of her.

"Taleria, is it really B'Hala?"

"Yes it is. And you seem as stunned as I was the first time I saw it."

Gel was stunned indeed. She had read about B'Hala, her grandmother had told her countless stories about the legendary city, but now she was seeing it, she was there, she …

"Well well well, bringing us new recruits, Emissary?"

The old man took Taleria by the hand and led her to a seat nearby. Then he started drying her feet and used a regenerator to warm them up.

"You don't have to do that yourself, Monas …"

"Tut tut tut! I know my place, Emissary, and it's about time that you finally learned what's yours. You think you serve us, but we serve the Prophets, therefore we serve you. Who is this scrawny little thing? She will never be able to carry rocks, you know."

"She is not here to work. She is my friend and my pupil. She also fed me for months."

"A servant then?"

"A friend, Monas."

"What's your name, child?" he said, turning to the "scrawny little thing".

"Bareil Gel, Sir."

"Don't call me Sir. I'm not the Kai, and even then you would call me Eminence. I am only a servant of the Emissary, just like you. Bareil, huh? Any relationship with Vedek Bareil Antos?"

"He was my grand uncle, S… sir."

"Give me your feet. Huh. You come from a good family. I knew Vedek Bareil. He should have been Kai instead of that renegade Winn. I hated her. She was not a Kai, she was a politician. Never mix religion and politics, I always say."

While he was talking, the old man had dried and warmed up Gel's feet, and now she was feeling all better.

"We'll have to find you better clothes than that, young lady, they practically cover nothing anymore. Come with me. As for you, Emissary, Her Eminence wishes to talk with you at your earliest convenience. Things are happening which may change the very nature of your mission."

***

The dark laboratory, lighted only by creepy blue and violet lights, was almost deserted now. It had hosted a formidable hive of scientists in almost all disciplines, but now only two men were looking at the woman-like thing in front of them.

"Are you sure she has what it takes?"

"Every test, every simulation says she's ready."

"Will she remember?"

"Absolutely not. Her memory has been completely purged and replaced by what she needs to know."

"But what about the rest?"

"Intact."

"I wish I could be sure of that."

"She will carry nothing that could be of use to them. If she's found out, all we lose is her. And when you think about it, that's not much."

"Careful, Doctor. You don't know who she was."

"I know, Sir."

"No you don't."

The man the Doctor called "Sir" looked at the thing again.

"Go ahead, shake her hand", said the doctor.

"That won't be necessary."

"She's got a hell of a grip."

"I know."

"She could crush every bone in your hand."

"All right. Dress her up. It's time for Phase 2."

 

[adm_gold]

More twists. Interesting to see where this goes.

 

[47]

Yes, quite a twist this one. And wait to see where it leads ...

 

[47]

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

November 30, 2404

"You stink!"

"Try to remember that next time you want to break that ensign's back, toDSaH!"

"Not that weak, ryak'na. I had you when I locked your arm behind your back."

"You're swearing in Romulan now?"

The two girls were drenched in sweat, and taking a sonic shower together, to save time before getting back to work.

"Yeah, I've had lessons."

"Maybe in Romulan swearing, but not in hand to hand fight. Ten more seconds and I was out of your feeble attempt at an arm lock."

"In your dreams, Klingon! I had you, and I had you well!"

"Yeah? How about next time, we have no time limit, Human?"

"Only if we keep our tops on this time. No time limit means even more stink. I almost fainted the first time I smelled your bare skin with all that sweat."

"Ha! Maybe we should fight naked then! You think you smell good, Human? Your smell is even more offensive to my nose than a pile of targ's dunk! But if you're too delicate a flower to smell me … Humans!"

"What, Humans?"

"You're too fragile."

"I seem to remember one human to whom you would never have said that."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Annie."

"She was not completely human, remember. I'm sure that, body to body, without the machine part, I would have defeated her."

"I don't know if you could have. She had more courage than the two of us put together."

"I won't fight you on that. But I would have defeated her — eventually."

"In your dreams, ryak'na."

"Think what you wish, toDSaH!"

The two girls got out of the shower and started putting their clothes back on. Before she put her top on, the human turned to the Klingon.

"By the way …"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, Miral."

"You're welcome, Molly."

***

This is highly inefficient.

The diamond shaped starship was now hiding in the Carina Arm of the galaxy, in the Beta Quadrant. A non-catalogued dark matter nebula was their new, and probably last, refuge.

Why does he do that?

The Borg Flagship was accompanied by eleven Cubes, one Tactical Cube and one Sphere. As far as the Queen knew, that was all that was left from the once mighty Borg Collective.

And yet they were after her. This pretender, this so-called "Borg King" had to know that she could not hurt him anymore, not with his estimated million and a half ships roaming the galaxy. And yet he was trying to find her, annihilate her. Why?

Maybe it is personal. And if it is, I must find why. This may be my only chance to maybe do something against him. It just might be his Achilles' heel …

***

"This plan is almost … No, it's colder than anything I ever heard about, including anything the Tal Shiar ever tried to accomplish."

"You forget the Shinzon conspiracy, Tomalak."

"No I don't, Admiral. But the Shinzon conspiracy, as you say, involved creating a clone, not recycling a dead officer's parts to create … this!"

"Still, it was quite cold to send him to the dilithium mines."

"The new government had different views from the one it had just … displaced. Still, the objective was noble."

"Yeah, destroy the Federation."

Tomalak looked at Dalton and smiled.

"It seemed to be the cool thing to do at the time."

"Cool?"

"I am studying the history of your language. It is fascinating. How long has she been running like that?"

"Forty-seven hours non-stop."

"And her readings?"

"They are less than three percent above the normal."

"And the test is supposed to last how long?"

"Ten days. After that, without rest, she will be attacked by wave after wave of trained and well-protected soldiers."

"And a loincloth and – no, not even a smile — to protect herself. Fair fight."

"It is. If we have done our job right, she will thrash them."

"Doesn't she need to sleep anymore?"

"Not the way her brain has been rewired."

"And it does not disturb you in the least that she is …?"

"No, Tomalak. This is not her. This is her brain in a new shell. Nothing more."

"I understand that while she is running, she is also asked questions which she answers through the transceiver?"

"Yes. All is perfect. She knows everything, and not too much."

"What would you do if she called you …"

"She won't, Tomalak. And if she does, we'll wipe her memory again and be more careful about what we download in it next time."

Tomalak turned around, disgusted. He knew of course this was for the greater good, but it was hard for him to admit that a human admiral could have designed such a plan.

And they pride themselves on being "human" …

***

Omar Rashid had been commanding Deep Space Nine for twenty years now. He should have retired long before, but the lack of commanding officers due to the war had stopped him from doing so. Still, he was hoping for a bit of peace until the next generation of commanding officers finally would allow him to go back to Risa and end his life in a relative beatitude.

Tough luck. Not today.

"Commander?"

The old man emerged from his daydreaming.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"You have two visitors from Bajor. They're dressed like some kind of monks. They're girls."

Rashid sighed.

"Show them in."

The vision was different from anything Rashid was expecting. Two girls, in some kind of hemp robe, barefoot, shoulders exposed, one Romulan in her young twenties and a Bajoran teenager. At that moment he understood who was in front of him.

"Lieutenant Cretak."

"I have left Starfleet, Commander. I now serve the First Ones. This is my companion, Bareil Gel."

"Your departure was not regular."

"Do not play with me, Commander. We have no time for that. The Murderer is on this station."

"What?"

"Gul Dukat, the Pah-Wraith who impersonated Captain Sisko, is somewhere on this station. He is looking for something. After that he will go to Khitomer to kill Lieutenant Sisko, the Captain's daughter."

"How do you know?"

"I am his Executioner."

 

[47]

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

December 3, 2404

"No, I have not found the man yet. Given my limited resources and the size of this station, it is impossible to find a man who may have taken any form, any shape, may change it at will, and knows this station like the back of his hand."

Tahn was getting irritated. Only a few months ago, he had ten times the effectives he had left now. But Starfleet needed more security officers for some experimental project which might "bring a conclusion to all hostilities between the Federation and its enemies". That was nice, but he was the one having to assure the safety of a station with a crew barely big enough for a Defiant-Class ship.

"Maybe we are going about this the wrong way, Colonel."

"What do you mean, Miss Cretak?"

The man was an old guard Romulan. He was still thinking that Romulans should have been the masters of the galaxy, that they were the Chosen Race. The sight in front of him of that little girl, young enough to be his granddaughter, in such a meek attitude, barefoot on the cold, metallic floor and wearing that robe and probably not much under it, left him uneasy. It was unworthy of her. And why would she serve those self-proclaimed gods? The Klingons had had the right idea: they had killed them!

Taleria looked at Tahn with reverence for his age and a warm smile which was almost reciprocated by the old, stern man.

"Maybe we should not look for him. Maybe we should give him a chance to look for me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Colonel, your search is impeded by the fact that you have too little personnel, and you have devoted almost half of it to my and Gel's personal safety. I am very grateful for your concern, but I believe we should give the Murderer a chance to actually kill me."

Tahn looked at her. Her expression was quite determined.

"But he is a killer! What if he actually finds you?"

Taleria looked at the man. He looked almost fatherly now.

"We are going to find each other, Colonel. He will find me, or I will find him. And the day it happens we will both die."

"With all due respect, Miss Cretak, I am here to see that you do not die. Your mother …"

"My mother does not understand, Colonel. This is my destiny. One cannot fight one's destiny. Nobody can change that."

"It seems you have a death wish, Miss Cretak. What about the child?"

"Gel? I will send her away. Then I will expose myself to the Murderer."

***

"What … the hell … is that?"

B'Elanna had done her best to act diplomatically, but what Yirina and Catherine had just finished explaining to her was a bit too crazy for her.

"Are you two mad?"

Yirina Sorel looked at the Klingon woman, then remembered what her daughter had done for her. She refrained from telling B'Elanna what she could do with her questions.

"No, Admiral, we are not. I know that this technology seems impossible to implement, but that is exactly why the Deletham was practically invincible."

"Yeah", B'Elanna said in an unconvinced tone. "Tell me again how you know all that?"

"I know that too is incredible, Admiral, but …"

"Incredible? Oh noooo! Some ghost appears in front of you, explains that the Deletham is not yours and it has to be destroyed because of some dimensional aberration, but you and the whole crew will be evacuated first, and then as some kind of parting gift, leaves in you all the data required to build another one, data it takes you years to assimilate and file in the computer network … That's not incredible, Yirina. That's the most logical story I ever heard in my whole life! Dalton may believe it, but you'll have to convince me before I give my OK to such a dangerous project. What's the power source, by the way?"

"You may like it even less, Admiral."

"Try me."

"It would be fed by an omega filament."

"A what? Does it have anything to do with the omega molecule?"

"It is an organized thread of omega molecules. It is in fact the only way to keep them stable. It's a little … difficult to understand …"

"Try me."

***

December 9, 2404

The thing was looking emptily at her tormentors. She had run non-stop for ten days, then she had spent fifteen hours fighting waves after waves of attackers, and had defeated them one after the other. Now she was demonstrating her coordination.

"Interesting game she is playing", Tomalak noticed.

"Jean-Luc Picard noticed on his report on the Ba'ku Incident that their children showed an extraordinary sense of concentration and coordination. We started her with one ball in that cylindrical room. Now she is at five, and she catches them all with her hands tied behind her back. Not one passes by without being hit by some part of her body."

"Blind."

"Yes, Tomalak. We turned off her sight before the attacks began, and she defended herself quite well, so we decided to keep her blind for this test. Her sensors, you see …"

Tomalak was disgusted by the man's heartlessness. He cut:

"And she is not losing balance. Do you think she is having fun?"

"No she doesn't. Her brain …"

"Yes I know", Tomalak cut. "Her brain has been rewired to be geared towards the mission, and nothing else."

"You seem to disapprove, Tomalak. Let me remind you that we are doing this for you too, and that I am the one paying the price here."

"Your sacrifice is noted, Admiral. But it does not mean that the enterprise is any nobler than I believe it to be. There are things no release may justify."

"You have a better idea? Nothing would make me happier than let her rest in peace. She deserves it. But there is no other way."

"You could have asked for a volunteer."

"She would have been."

"I wish I could have asked her."

"Why don't you?"

"What?"

"I'll bring her out and you can talk to her. She'll answer."

"Very well, Admiral. Bring her out."

***

Gel had heard Taleria telling her all the reasons why she had to return to Bajor: complete her studies with the manuscripts in front of her, get ready for the travels of the next year, etc.

Then she had embarked on the shuttle leaving for Bajor. That was six days ago. Now …

"I thought Lieutenant Cretak had sent you back to Bajor, Miss Bareil", Tahn told her in the sternest tone he could muster.

"She did, Sir."

"And yet you are back."

"I cannot defy the authority of the Emissary, Sir. She told me to go and I went. She did not tell me not to come back."

"I am certain that she expected you to remain on Bajor more than a few days, Miss Bareil."

"I will not leave her alone, Sir. May I count on your discretion?"

"You are a minor, Miss Bareil."

"I am a Daughter of Murena, Colonel. On a Bajoran station, that means I answer only to my big sister."

"Therefore I should contact her."

"I have one good reason for you not to do so."

***

"What is your name?" Tomalak asked the being in front of him.

"My name is R2."

"What does it stand for?"

R2 looked puzzled.

"My name is R2."

"I see. Who are you?"

"I am R2."

"Who were you before?"

R2 was definitely lost.

"I was R2."

No you were not. You were a young, smart, vibrant young human female, a brilliant officer, and they made you a turnip.

 

[47]

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

December 10, 2404

One … Two … Three … Four …Five …

Once again Molly had been plunged, hanging by her feet, hands tied behind her back, topless, in that ice cold bloodwine. The thing was so acid, it had hurt her eyes the first time. Truly the stuff was for internal consumption only, unless you were a Klingon. Or they had added something to the brew.

Six … Seven … Eight … Nine … Ten …

It was the only way she knew of to think of something else than giving it all up. Counting the seconds was futile, as "they" didn't seem to count them themselves. They just waited until they felt like it, and then took her out. What was her personal record already? Was it sixteen or eighteen? Oh well …

Eleven … Twelve … Thirteen … Fourteen … Fifteen …

How did they know? Who could have told them about the designs of the Deletham II? It was so top secret that most of Starfleet didn't even know about it yet! That's what they had been told anyway. She couldn't even remember right now anyway. All she knew was that the Deletham II would be as close to the Deletham's firepower as humanly possible. It would have … what?

Sixteen … Seventeen … Eighteen … Nineteen … Twen…

As suddenly as every time, she was brought up, on the verge of asphyxia and losing consciousness. She took a big breath and said raucously:

"O'Brien, Molly, Ensign, Serial Number MSO-18931217."

As usual, her stubbornness was greeted by an anvil-like punch in her already broken jaw, followed by a whiplash — on the breast this time.

"The weapon guidance system, Miss O'Brien. Your only chance to get some rest today is to tell us about it."

"I'm … rested … enough."

"As you wish. Let's raise the pain."

The Klingon took his meqleH and slowly, deliberately cut Molly's belly, superficially but enough to let her blood gush out. Then he made a gesture and Molly found herself again submerged to the waist in the acidic bloodwine.

One … Two … Three … Four …Five …

***

R2 was once again naked, on the operating table, being probed a hundred different ways before her departure. Tomalak could not refrain from admiring the job that had been done to make her look so incredibly natural — better than the original actually.

He had been told he could talk to her as much as he wanted: it would not affect the test results in any way. So he was trying to pierce the hull.

"How do you feel?"

"I am functioning within established parameters."

"That is not what I meant, R2."

"Then I do not understand the question."

"Are you happy to be treated the way you are?"

"I am being prepared for my mission."

Tomalak looked at her sadly.

"And what is your mission?"

"The specifics of my mission have not been downloaded yet."

Tomalak was stunned. All he could articulate was:

"Wh-what?"

"The specifics of my mission have not been downloaded yet."

"You do not know what your mission is?"

"No, Admiral."

"Do you know how dangerous it is? The risks you will take?"

"I have been told that I would not come back."

At least you have been told that.

"So you might die?"

"I could be captured and interrogated, or simply put to death."

"And still you volunteered?"

"Volunteered?"

"Yes. You agreed to that mission, did you not?"

"I do as I am told, Admiral. I have no will of my own."

No free will, you mean. I knew it! They made her a mindless cannon fodder."

***

Lieutenant Julia Natalya Chekhov had seen many things during her career in Starfleet Security. Six years on the Yorktown had seasoned her. Her guts had done the rest. It was her who, with her apparently frail stature of 1.40 meters in height, had arrested Jethro, Sabrina's uncle, a brute of 2.10 meters who was everything but unimpressive.

She was one of the few top officers who had agreed to volunteer for Deep Space Nine when Fox had finally given Rashid the authorization to "add a few good men" to Tahn's security staff.

Yes, Chekhov had seen many things. But this was a first.

"I am not sure that I understand those orders correctly, Colonel."

Tahn looked at her with fire in his eyes, but he did not move. Instead he explained again, in a very calm, restrained voice:

"I want you to stop your stealthy surveillance of the Emissary as of now. I will watch over her personally. You will assume my functions in this office. Report to me only in cases of extreme danger."

"I have never been a chief of security, Sir."

"How old are you, Lieutenant?"

"Twenty-six, Sir."

"And you still need someone to hold you by the hand?"

"No Sir but …"

"Your records state that you are a very promising officer, who might even be called to command someday. Should I make a correction?"

"Sir?"

"Would you like to follow the footsteps of your big sister Alexandra? Or maybe you are not sharing the same blood?"

"I do, Sir."

"Very well then. You take the office, I take up the surveillance. Sit down, I am out of here."

Julia looked at the man walking resolutely out of the office, sat down, put her head in her hands and tried to sort her thoughts.

***

"Nothing! Nothing! NOTHING!!!"

All around the vociferating character, it was the most absolute silence. One could have heard a pin drop if he had shut up for a second.

"Where is she? Does none of you understand the importance of finding her, and finding her quickly?"

The so-called Borg King — for it was him — sighed in frustration.

"He is going to tell us again", one drone whispered to another.

"Haven't you understood that since we defeated the Dominion, our only enemy left is the only one who has constantly held us in check, the Federation?"

"He forgets Species 8472", the same drone whispered.

"The Queen is the only source of information on the Federation current weaponry we can access. She managed to study and assimilate their new technologies. As long as we do not possess that knowledge, we can't do anything against them!"

"Yeah, that and his personal grudge against the Federation", the same drone said.

But this time he was heard.

"You! Come here!" the king said.

As all eyes were now on him, the drone walked slowly to the front.

"Have you anything to add to my analysis of the situation?"

"No sir …"

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes sir …"

"So your presence here has no purpose?"

The drone felt fear, terror. He knew what it meant. Without waiting for an answer, the king ordered:

"Take him, dismantle him, and salvage the components. Dismissed!"

 

[adm_gold]

Happy holidays to you. I was a little lost for a chapter or two but I feel brought back in as I am following things again. A looming Borg battle seems to be coming and I am wondering where "R2" is heading. She sounds a little taller and a lot prettier than the R2 from Mr Lucus.